Shades of Grey

No, not that "grey". Grey as in getting older and it's showing up in my once lustrous jet black hair. Ha! I don't think I ever had lustrous locks, nor jet black. But, alas, my four decades on this planet is now evident by the silvery white strands I find. Or perhaps it's due to the four kids.
At any rate, I was bemoaning the fact that my hair was turning white and trying to pluck out the strands I could reach. Yes, I've heard all about that old wives' tale about fifty more growing in. But still, vanity and the chase for everlasting youth had me in front of the mirror searching for those pesky strands.
My children had varied responses to their mother's aging.
Aisling was quite upset. She sat on a stool in the bathroom, and with a very serious look on her face, as evidenced by the knitted brows, she asked in a worried tone, "You're getting grey hair? How are we going to get you back to normal, Mommy? We need to get you back to normal so you can be our mommy."
When questioned as to what "normal" entailed, she responded, "You know, young!"
She then came up with her own scenario for what would occur if her mommy didn't return to her previously "normal" state.
"I know what we'll do if you can't get back to normal. We'll have to give you away and get a new younger mommy who doesn't have grey hair."
Trying not to laugh, her father asked what about him. Same solution. Bring in younger models with more vitality. Too funny since Daddy has had some grey hair for all of Aisling's short life.
I preferred my other kids' suggestions for my greying self.
Ceilidh, quite flippantly, stated "I guess you should start dying your hair."
Devlin came up and hugged me. "Don't worry Mommy," he said. "I'll still love you even if you're old and grey, but maybe you should dye your hair like Halmuhnee!"

Lunch box struggles

There are many, many articles in various parenting magazines regarding the lunch box quandry. What to pack, how to pack, how much to pack, how to tempt little appetites, and keep nutrition front and foremost as well. I even once read an article on bento-box lunches for kids. Really cute ideas (think rice shaped into tiny mice with ham for whiskers) but who has got the time, energy and motivation for that every single day?
Well, after one too many complaints about not liking the sandwich, and that Daddy packed the fruit they didn't like, and seeing half-eaten lunches, our household has come up with a solution. Or rather, Devlin did. They are packing their own lunches!
Before bed, they march down to the kitchen, and start organizing their lunches. Snacks, fruits, sandwiches. Even Aisling!
(It still looks like the same lunch that their Dad packed every morning.)
It's been two days since we've started this new regime. Let's see how long it lasts.

Self-Portrait of Ceilidh

This is Ceilidh - as she sees herself. An assignment at school that has brought forth the topic of identity in our household. As a mother of bi-ethnic, bi-racial children, I haven't truly given much thought to how my children might view themselves, or how they would fit into the much larger community outside the comforts of our home. Perhaps I've been too wrapped up in potty-training, teaching the children to read and do arithmetic, trying to keep track of when book orders and milk orders are due, and trying to figure out who has outgrown what. In other words, the everyday minutae of living has overpowered the need to reflect on the changing face of our society. Or perhaps I've never seen the need to discuss identity with my kids. We live in a very multicultural community. There are faces in every colour of the rainbow in my children's classes. They learn about all the various holidays in all the religions and cultures represented in their school. Unlike myself, who attended a very "white" school and whose yellow skin and black hair stuck out like a sore thumb, my kids seem to blend in very well.
Devlin is quite proud that he is half-Korean, and is now taking Tae Kwon Do lessons. He also announced that having scoured all of the reference books at the library, he has not found a single mention of Korean New Year, which means we must be part of a yet undiscovered tribe. I had to sadly break his bubble and explain that Korean New Year is celebrated on the same day as Chinese New Year, which is really the start of the lunar new year.
Back to the self-portrait. Ceilidh has indicated the stick figures are her family of six, and that "ABC" refers to the fact that she loves school. Unfortunately, she mistakenly drew the Japanese flag to represent her Korean heritage ( a huge taboo in certain parts of the world today). So, I hastily found a picture of the Korean Tae-Guk-Gi to show her. But what I found most interesting was how she saw her bi-ethnic self - a mix of black and brown hair and yellow-toned skin! (And she's the most mixed looking of the four.) She is also true Canuk at heart, as evidenced by the maple leaf on her and surrounding her.
And judging by the line above her head, I don't think my daughter has an issue with self-esteem.

9 months old!

It seems like the days are zipping by. It's already October, and we've already our turkey day. It's hard to believe that our little Quinn-meister is already 9 months old!
He's got six teeth that are quite sharp, and an infectious grin. When he does laugh, it's quite the riot. In the last two weeks, he's figured out how to clap his hands and watch everyone around mimic his actions. He will grunt and growl and smile when it's repeated by another. It's like a whole conversation - cave man style - as he answers back in a Gremlin-sounding grunt.
Having abandoned the army crawl for the traditional hands and knees method, there is no nook or cranny Quinn hasn't discovered in this house. The other day, he got stuck between the wall and the entertainment stand. He's also quick to find a toilet whose seat isn't down and covering the bowl. Water fun! Unrolling the toilet paper is also entertaining. If there's ever silence in the home, the bathroom is the first place to look for Quinn.
His legs are getting stronger every day. With that, comes grabbing onto Mommy's pants and holding on as she washes the dishes or is preparing a meal. Yesterday, I managed to prepare a batch of banana muffins with Quinn attached to my legs. He's learned that Mommy wears a certain shade of nail polish, and that's how he distinguishes between Mommy and Auntie Grace when all he sees are legs encased in black.
Of all our kids, Quinn has the most adventurous palate. Or perhaps it's the wisdom and experience of having three other picky eaters that makes me push all sorts of flavors and textures onto (or is into) him. At nine months, he's starting to refuse mushy foods, and prefers feeding himself. So, he's a fan of steamed broccoli to the utter amazement of his older siblings. Ceilidh is particular, is suspicious of anything in the vegetable family with the one exception of cucumbers. He loves to feed himself tiny bites of chicken nuggets, pan fried fish, waffles, strawberries and of course, the penultimate favorite - cheerios. He had a Thanksgiving feast of turkey, roasted squash and mashed potatoes. He wasn't keen on the steamed carrots though.  He will allow to be spoon fed yogurt, pureed fruits and his favorite dessert - ice cream. Dessert time is ice cream   with Daddy. His tongue darts out and saliva starts dripping the moment he sees the bowl in front of his father. Pavlov's dog?
At nine months, it's getting harder and harder to change his diaper without having him roll over the second his back touches the ground. Trying to change a poopy cloth diaper and fasten a clean one one around a wriggling baby is no walk in the park. It should be a task for the Navy SEALS.
We spent Thanksgiving weekend at the cottage. It was chilly, and sleeping with Quinn and Aisling kept me warm all night. I didn't need an alarm clock either. Why is it that kids will wake up at the crack of dawn on a holiday or weekend, but be dead to the world on a school day morning? Quinn too. He woke me up by blowing raspberries into my face and giggling at my disgruntled reaction. At 7:30 in the morning!

Of course, with every passing day, I am reminded that my return to work is also fast approaching. In trying to enjoy every last second of my hiatus from the office, I've decided to indulge in the luxury of an afternoon nap with Quinn. Snuggling his slumbering body into me, I love to breathe in his sweet baby scent and gently kiss his fingers and tiny nose. As we both relax on the couch, I try to memorize every detail so I'll have something to reflect on when I'm back at work and missing my Quinn desperately.

Speaking of fat...

Over the past two weeks, we've spent lots of time at the doctor's office thanks to the various infections and illnesses visiting our household. On one of those occasions, Aisling sat next to me, peering over my shoulder as I flipped through a parenting magazine to pass the time.
"Umm Mommy? I want to tell you something," she says as she tugs on my arm.
"Wait, stop there. See that picture?" she points to an advertisement featuring a very pregnant woman.
"Yes?" I answer, assuming there's a question to follow.
"You know, when you had Quinn in your belly? You were really really fat!" she announces to the waiting room in her oh-so-quiet (not!) voice.
"Gee thanks Aisling," I reply drily, deciding now was not the time for a lecture on not calling someone 'fat'.
"Well, you were," she retorts.

Staying Fit

There's been lots of press regarding the ever-widening girth of North Americans, and in particular, the worrisome growing rates of obesity in children. There are factors such as a heavier reliance on cheaper, pre-packaged, convenience foods, larger portion sizes and increased time spent in front of a screen -  be it television, computer or video game. As families become busier, and parents work longer hours or shifts, the ideal of a sit-down family meal becomes a thing of the past. All of which leads to bigger and heavier folks.
We made a commitment to stay healthy and fit in our family. Despite long commutes and extra-curricular activities, we try to eat dinner together as a family almost every evening. All of the kids who can walk are involved in sports. For several years, all three were in gymnastics. This year, we've given gymnastics a break, and instead, Devlin, Ceilidh, Aisling, along with their dad, are taking Tae Kwon Do lessons. There's hockey for Devlin, and dance for both girls. All four kids have swimming lessons, although it's mostly splashing in the water for Quinn. During the summer, there's soccer.
It's not just the kids who are active. Mommy works out almost every morning, or goes for a run after dropping the kids off at school. The kids have come to cheer me on at the races. Daddy hits the gym on his lunch hours. We play ultimate frisbee during the warm weather months. The children all come out to play on the sidelines. We used to play three nights a week, but that's been reduced to once a week because of the kids' activities. When there's a free hour or two and the weather is pleasant, we go for a family bike ride. Unless it's a torrential downpour, our children walk to school everyday.
We also try to throw them out in the backyard whenever we can. It's amazing how creative the kids can get when they're trying to amuse themselves. Once we watched them try to put together a zipline using some skipping ropes and our trees. Unfortunately, they weren't tall enough to make an effective zipline and they only travelled a foot before hitting the ground.
This morning, during the daily morning confusion of getting jackets on, backpacks sorted, shoes tied and out the door to school, Aisling asked about getting fat.
"Will I get fat?" she queried.
"Not if you exercise and stay fit," I answered while looking for somebody's jacket.
"That's doesn't seem to be working for Daddy," replied my smart mouthed eight year old son.
"Hey, don't call Daddy "fat". That would make him upset!" reprimanded Aisling.